


Void

by pyrosgf



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Non Consensual, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:06:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrosgf/pseuds/pyrosgf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is dark and I never specify who the other person is.  Adam is too trusting and someone he thought he knew takes advantage of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Void

The pain that racked his body was nothing compared to the black hole that sucked at his heart. A void so large that he was sure his chest would cave in. He gasped for breath, grasping for purchase against the sheets.

He'd never seen it coming. He'd always been told he'd trusted too easily but never before had it blown up in his face. No, it wasn't until this night, his twenty-first birthday. Adam had spent extra time that night making sure he looked perfect. His eyes lined with black and surrounded by smoldering kohl eye shadow. His lips pursed in the mirror as he applied gloss to them heavily. He looked fucking hot even to himself, and now. Now he regretted he'd ever stepped out of his house.

The sharp tug on his wrist had been rougher than he was used to as the smaller man drug him toward the exit, but this was a man he trusted with his life, or so he thought. He was rethinking that now as the ropes burned wrists. His upper body burned with the struggle of trying to free himself, all the while a demon cackled behind him.

He blinked and callous brown eyes were suddenly in his face blinking down at him. Adam knew there was no point in begging, knew by the fuzzy feeling in his head that the bastard has slipped something in his drink. He was fucked. It was hopeless, and tomorrow he would be left to pick up the pieces if he survived the night.

Like nails on a chalkboard the sadistic fucker proceeded to purr against his ear. Words like 'pretty,' 'perfect,' and worst yet 'a fine piece of ass that you never would give up.' Rough hands on his hips were sure to leave bruises and he cried out desperately, his body seared with pain that started in his ass. He felt the bile rise into his throat and almost choked on it as a cock was shoved up his ass with no preparation. He could almost hear his body splitting in two and as hips pistoned, the movements eased by the sick slide of fresh blood.

Adam prayed to whatever gods might be listening, desperately begging for an end to this horror, his voice going hoarse from his screams. No end came and all through the night, again and again he was violated to the point that his body's exhaustion and pain caused his mind to shut down. Some protection device of the human mind he was suddenly grateful for.

When his consciousness returned, everything felt like it was coated in molasses. His thoughts were muddled until he opened his eyes a fraction, the bright sun filtering in the window a stark contrast to the darkness of his heart. Slowly he took in his surroundings, and he discovered his hands were free, and his tormentor was gone. He wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

Adam wished in that moment he would have gone into shock or been numb, but no, Adam Lambert was the king of analyzing things. His emotions were on the top of that list and he felt used, betrayed, but most of all he felt ashamed. He was sure signs were there that had indicated the little bastard was mad, but he was always the one to look for the best in people.

Maybe there truly wasn't a best in anyone. In that moment he felt his heart harden, a stone replacing the beating flesh. Never again would he allow himself to trust anyone, everyone was out to hurt him, and it wouldn't happen again.

He took stock of his body, the red welts about his wrists, dark bruises scattered over the length of his body, but it was the small perfect hand prints on his hips that sent a shiver down his spine. Adam stumbled into the bathroom, having realized he was in some seedy motel. He was relieved to find a single washcloth on the counter, but when he lifted it there was a note.

_Thanks for the good time Adam, you really have a great ass._

His stomach rolled and he managed to get his head over the toilet just in time to wretch whatever was in his stomach. When it was finally empty he rose, a cold sweat causing him to shiver as he grabbed the note and crumpled in his hand. He tossed it hard and pain shot through his already tender shoulder.

Finally he grabbed the washcloth to wet it with cool water. He could tell he'd been pretty fucked up, but when he tenderly wiped over his backside he had to bite back a scream. The cloth was a dusky red when he rinsed it in the sink, the dried blood a testament to his terror. He knew he was damaged, and felt the panic rising at the idea of a hospital.

No this would be his secret, and he just hoped whatever physical damage would heal on its own because he knew the void in his chest wouldn't be closing anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.


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